Mr. Donald May - My Faithful Friend

Therefore, brethren, we were comforted over you in all our affliction and distress by your faith: For now we live, if ye stand fast in the Lord.
I Thessalonians 3:7-8
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“Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong.” 1 Corinthians 3:16

“Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.” Galatians 5:1

“Only let your conversation be as it becometh the gospel of Christ: that whether I come and see you, or else be absent, I may hear of your affairs, that ye stand fast in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel.” Philippians 1:27

“Therefore, my brethren dearly beloved and longed for, my joy and crown, so stand fast in the Lord, my dearly beloved.” Philippians 4:1

“Therefore, brethren, stand fast, and hold the traditions which ye have been taught, whether by word, or our epistle.” II Thessalonians 2:15
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I first met him over 30 years ago at the church where I was the assistant pastor. He has long since gone home to be with the Lord. He was a faithful friend over all the years I was privileged and blessed to have known him. I’ve only met a handful of others like him. But honestly, there was none like him — to me.

I’m revolving my way through I Thessalonians. It’s a short book that is packed full of wonderfully encouraging words. Its simple, straight forward presentation speaks well of that local congregation started by the Apostle Paul.

This morning during my Bible reading, the two words “Stand Fast” stood out to me. And for whatever reason (wish I knew how this sort of thing happens), Mr. May leapt into my mind. When I read those two words, I immediately thought of him.

At first, Mr. May really didn’t want me calling him Mr. May. He wasn’t that much older than I was. But … I felt he wasn’t young enough for me to call him by his first name. But … he probably wasn’t really old enough to warrant me calling him Mr. May either.

He asked me several times when we first met to not call him that. But I just couldn’t, ever, bring myself to calling him anything but Mr. May. Why? Because the quality of the man demanded I honor him with the level of respect and dignity I felt he deserved. Finally, he acquiesced and graciously accepted my intent.

Mr. May hadn’t been to Bible school. He didn’t work in the ministry, officially. In appearance and diction, he was just a regular guy. Prior to my meeting him, he had been faithful in serving the Lord in whatever capacity or task that was asked of him. And he did much that wasn’t asked of him. He was always there and always available.

For his occupation Mr. May managed an apple farm. He had done that for years. He always brought our family apples and always supplied us with honey. Both of which were always wonderfully fresh.

But more than what he gave TO me was what he always was FOR me.

He always had my back. He always stood by me. He always encouraged me. Never, ever, was he anything but a blessing to our family and our church — all the years I knew him.

That is rare ... exceptionally rare.

After I left the church where I was assistant pastor to take my church, he stayed at on at the church. Eventually he left and became involved in a church where his youngest son attended a Christian school. Mr. May believed it was important to be involved in that which was ministering to him and his family.

After several years there, he and Mrs. May showed up at our church one day. It was great to see them again. But here’s what made it great — he was still the same guy that was still in love with his Savior.

I have to admit that when he first popped back into my life I wondered if he would still be the same guy. So many of the folks I’d known over the years had, upon meeting them again, changed — not always for the good. Plus, so many folks I’ve known just, for whatever reason, sort of slipped backwards rather than forwards with the Lord.

Not Mr. May.

He was still strong in the Lord. He had the same refreshing heart and zeal that I remembered him having. I was so happy. It wasn’t within me to see another believer that was just a shell of what they had been. After a few initial visits in our church, they became members, got involved, and stayed on with us.

What’s my testimony to Mr. May? What did he (and still does) mean to me? He was my rock. He was my motivation. He was my source of encouragement. He was my … FRIEND.

Mr. May, with a sort of needed regularity, still pops up in my mind. And when he does, it brings to me the same joy it brought when he was alive and with us.

His death was sudden. He had taken a load of apples to market to be sold. Someone found him lying on the ground next to his truck — dead. It was that quick. It was a great shock. It was … an irreplaceable loss.
I had the joy and privilege of doing his funeral. It was bitter sweet. I was glad he was with the Lord. But, I was sad for his family and for the rest of us he left behind.

During the service, in my own sort of way of trying to bring a little relief in difficult times like that, it dawned on me (and I said) — It’s just like Mr. May. It’s like he won the lottery of life: one moment he’s here and the next moment he’s with his Lord.

I wish Mr. May was still here with us. But here’s the thing. I don’t have, as far as I know, any of my personal family that have trusted Christ for salvation. Many of them are now dead. I’ll never see them in Heaven. We won’t ever meet up again and be together for eternity.

But …

I know Mr. May is there and one day we will be together again.

And you know what …?

Knowing that keeps me wanting to STAND FAST — just like he did.

Thank you Mr. May.
I miss you.
I love you,
Warren